7: 46 Pm Poem by Etienne Charilaou

7: 46 PM
The clock (analog) in the mens' surgical ward
at Edenvale Hospital displays this
perpetually.
Time has stopped in this place,
or rather it has slowed down greatly.
No internet, scant reading material -
what should I do to pass the time profitably?
No ideas are forthcoming -
it's a problem I have at home,
though there I have many options (comics, books, music, movies, etc.)
to choose from.
Perhaps I should get them to bring my Rubik's cube?
This place affords the time to do it justice.
Playing chess against a computer would be acceptable.
My brain needs to be challenged or it begins to shut down.
Yet, this is surely where I'm supposed to be now.
What a new experience! Painful, frightening to varying degrees.
Here I can see that people, even people you'd perhaps not care to meet in the street, do care for others.